


for the world turns and turns

by manonisch



Category: The Old Guard (Comics), The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Allusions to the other immortals throughout, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28070673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonisch/pseuds/manonisch
Summary: (drabble) She wants all and she wants nothing, she is the dark and the thunder on the grass.- Ruminations on Andy through the ages
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko
Kudos: 13





	for the world turns and turns

**Author's Note:**

> This knocked me over the head, when contemplating on the nature of Andy, on the unfathomable length of her live and the roles she has fitted for herself.  
> The text combines elements of both the comic and the movie, though they should be vague enough to not throw anybody too badly.

She is a goddess, an unshakeable sureness. Her people bow their heads, reach with their gazes for the flawless, bloody tip of her sash, spilling over the wooden throne.

_\- She wants all and she wants nothing, she is the dark and the thunder on the grass. She is the tip of a sharp stone over skin. -  
_

She is a ghost, walking over the bones of her forefathers. Her childrens heads crushed beneath the sands, the hunger, splintered by time, haunted by the vision of dark eyes.

_\- She searches for so long she is sure she has forgotten herself -_

She is a lover, a whisper on the smile of her beloved. Her quick limbs moonlit white beneath her hips, a starlights reflection in her dark eyes, a promise eternal on the tip of her tongue.

_\- She whispers the name of her beloved into the sand beneath her fingers, the endless firmament, she screams it with every motion, heart bursting at the seams -_

She is a child, grasping for warm, dark hands, the familiar smile, broad laughter and coming away red and empty. The heat from the funeral pyre scalds her like it is the first time.

_\- She mourns, truly mourns for the first time, for love and family and they draw his legacy with every step they take. -_

She is a wound, torn and ragged, diving beneath the waves, salt in her throat, salt in her blood, a calcified edifice to grief.

_\- Is this it? -_

She may have been innocent once, the world big enough to be conquered by a quick word and quicker hands, the notes of her mothers voice not yet raised in accusation. Still, every betrayal throws her back to that first time.

_\- The knife cuts the same way, still it hurts so much more -_

She is mortal, and it feels like a second chance.

 _\- She wakes like from a long dream and the world stretches before her -_

**Author's Note:**

> If you see anything off or want to rag on my spelling, grammar..., I am very thankful for any messages.


End file.
